January Catchall; so swing down that sledgehammer through the wood

[terribibble]

Who: Fiddleford McGucket and anyone unfortunate enough to be near him
What: Settling in and trying to stay busy
When: Throughout January
Where: Around Milton; specifics in prompts

Content Warnings: General Fiddleford content warning for memory loss, lost time, unreality and paranoia. Everything else is in specific prompt headers/will be added as needed.

A. OTA

There are a lot of abandoned cabins scattered throughout Milton, a reminder that the town was once a lot more lively than it is now. Today, though, one of them is showing signs of activity. The door is open. It hangs at an odd angle, like the hinges aren't attached quite right. A bit of the roof is sagging. Whoever lived here hasn't been in residence in a very long time, and that's perfect, because that means it's unlikely they'll come back and get mad to find someone else has set up residence.

That had felt like the thing to do to Fiddleford, once he'd got his feet under him a little. He certainly wasn't going to stay on a cot in the community hall forever. That had felt too crowded, too exposed. Too many variables and too many unknowns. If he has his own space he can be a little more certain that it's safe. It'll be nice to have a door between him and everything else around here, or at least it will once he fixes the door. A project, something to do with his hands, that's what he needs. That'll keep his brain busy, and if his brain's busy it'll be harder to think himself into a corner about where he is and how he got there and how none of it makes any sense.

There's an odd assortment of junk on the porch and every now and again something else gets tossed out the door and added to the pile. It's very possible that a rusted-out pot or bent frying pan or bit of rotten wood might fly a little too far and wind up out in the street, but listen. It's the new year and that means thorough cleaning. A few moments later a man who looks like he has not slept in a week pokes his head out the door and waves a hand. He's wearing a green tweed suit with scuffed elbow patches and he is at least trying to look friendly. He is even sort of managing it!

"Sorry! Wasn't aiming for you, I swear."

B. Closed to March and/or Wynonna; warning for alcohol discussion

One of the first things he did was read the message board more or less top to bottom. That had seemed like one of the fastest ways to get a read on the people around him (or at least the people who would bother posting something up on the town message board). It takes him a bit to find the place indicated on the note given that he is still new enough to not know his way around, but he saw 'booze' and 'still' and that had seemed like something he ought to investigate. That's another project to keep busy with. And more than that, he could just really use a drink. This is the kind of situation it feels appropriate to drink about, right? He feels like if you're going to drink about something then getting kidnapped to a snowed-in mining town by unknown forces is probably the thing it should be.

"Hello? I read some folks were looking for help with a still."

C. Wildcard! If you've got an idea hit me up on the Discord or just tag in, I am game for whatever.

Comments

B.

[pacificator]

The pine wine isn't good, not even when you've drunk enough of it to forget what taste buds even are. Which is not something Wynonna's done today, but she's done it recently enough that she still looks a little haggard when she opens the door in response to the knock. "Yeah?"

She'd only stopped in to check on the next batch, but apparently her timing is, for maybe the first time ever, perfect, because this guy says help with a still and she visibly perks up. "Can you build one?"

She's never seen this guy before in her life. That's not important right now.

this is where i pretend i know anything about making moonshine

[terribibble]

Obviously this is the ideal way to make a good first impression. One of the best ways to get people to like you is to be useful, after all.

"Sure I can, as long as you don't care how it looks." It'll be cobbled together out of whatever he can get his hands on, because that's his favorite building material and also tends to cost the least. "It'll be functional enough for sugar shine, which I figure is what you're making?"

What with the emphatic bring sugar! on the note and all.

[pacificator]

"It can look like whatever so long as it makes decent alcohol."

She steps back, opening the door more widely into the abandoned home she and March have turned into a moonshine shack, and tips her head to invite him in. "Uh, I guess. Pine wine, pretty much. Tastes like shit, but it does the trick."

Wynonna digs in her pocket, dragging out a flask to hold out to him. "Try it for yourself."

[terribibble]

He takes the flask and takes an experimental swig.

"Whoo-ee, that's-- whoof. That's somethin'." It's something enough to make him momentarily forget to push the Tennessee down. He'd like to think he has a pretty high tolerance when it comes to alcohol, but he's never had anything that tasted quite like this. It's a little like getting smacked in the face with an entire pine tree. 'Does the trick' is maybe an understatement.

"You know with a still all you strictly need's sugar, water and yeast. It doesn't have to taste like drinking a tree." Unless drinking a tree was the point, in which case, oh no. He can do that, but oh no.

[pacificator]

Wynonna grimaces, sympathetic, at his reaction. Yeah. She knows.

"Well, we don't have a still," she points out. "That's where you come in. Look, it would be great if it tasted like Forty Creek, but I'll settle for just 'won't kill us' and 'will get us drunk.' Can you make that happen?"

That accent of his... it's not exactly Doc's velvet Georgian drawl, but it makes her scoff a little chuckle of familiarity anyway. It's not like Doc wouldn't have the same damn reaction to the stuff. Everyone has that reaction to it.

A

[solitarysoul]

The boy in the oversized coat with the rifle pauses as the rusty pan hits the ground before him. He looks towards the house for a moment before deciding to check out what's happening. That's just when Fiddleford peeks out.

"Oh, uh, its okay. I don't think you knew I was there."

i debated on the normal or the worst response and you know which one i had to do

[terribibble]

"Kinda makes it all the more impressive that I didn't-- say. Where'd you get the rifle?"

Because that seems like the next important thing to square away: some kind of defense. Not that he isn't confident in his ability to knock someone out cold with just his banjo, but he'd like to not risk breaking the banjo if there are other options.

Notably his question does not seem to be 'how did someone as young as you look get a rifle', which would probably be the normal thing to ask.

well of course

[solitarysoul]

Its mine, I brought it with me. But there are a few stores that have guns left, and some houses might. I have extra ammo if you need it.

[He kinda collected most of it he could find. He had to force himself to leave it behind for other people, but at least he offers it up for free to pretty much anyone so far.]

[terribibble]

Hm. [He turns to look over his shoulder back into the cabin.] Might be one in here, then. I haven't gone through the whole place yet.

[That would be a real neat solution. Less fuss all around. On the other hand a gun feels like one of the few things you would take with you if you were ditching your home and venturing out into the wilderness. Could go either way.]

Did you-- did you choose to bring it with you or did it just show up here when you did?

[Because if he could have chosen what came with him and didn't get to, that's kind of annoying.]

A

[cantor]

Renny's traveled to all sorts of places along the Sword Coast, but he's never been anywhere this cold. Every time he sets foot outside, his face numbs over and he feels like his nose is at risk of falling off. This entire village is bizarre, brimming with mechanical and otherworldly items he can't make heads or tails of. (A good deal of the trinkets he comes across goes into his pockets.) There's so much to learn, and the thought fills him with childlike excitement.

So it happens that, during his daytime exploration, Renny spots a promising sign: a porch full of stuff! And it seems as though the pile is growing. He slowly walks up, eyes glittering with curiosity, just in time to see a rusty pan go flying, followed by its ill-rested disposer.

"No harm, no foul," Renny says with a dismissive wave of his sleeve. He looks no less messy than the stranger. The halfling's scrounged up a bright red jacket too large for him, a wooden lyre strapped to his back, and appears to be carrying a... rapier? The result is he looks like an anachronistic mish-mash. He glances at the pile. "Doing a spot of housecleaning, huh?"

[terribibble]

The rapier is really the part that gets him. Too big jacket, okay. Probably better for keeping warm if you want to really argue about it. Lyre, sure, a little odd but he's got a banjo leaning against the wall inside so who is he to judge. The rapier, though. It looks like something out of Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons and not like something anyone would actually use in a fight if they had another option. Do people even still use swords at all? Like, outside of fencing? Is fencing still a thing people do?

He is getting off track.

"Ah-- yes. Whoever used to live here left it in a pretty bad state. I figure it'll be easier to fix it up if there's less junk to work around." Like. What's he going to do with a pot with a hole in the bottom? Get soup all over the stove? No thanks.

[cantor]

When the man makes it clear he's cleaning out the place, Renny perks up. He hears an opportunity - a chance to occupy his time and to potentially know another fellow Interloper.

"Looks like you've got an awful lot of junk left in there." He points at himself with his thumb. "Why don't I lend you a hand?"

[terribibble]

Well hey! This is the first person who's offered to be genuinely helpful, and that's kind of bolstering.

"I'd be much obliged if you did. Company always makes work go faster." Not that he doesn't enjoy the work. That part, he likes just fine. He just hates to be alone. He will always take an offer of company if one is extended; doing otherwise would be looking a gift horse in the mouth. Not that he's not always a little ready for the horse to kick him, but he likes to believe the best of people until that other shoe drops. Horseshoe drops? He always has trouble getting his metaphors mixed up.

"Mainly I need to pull up a lot of the boards. They're all rotted through under where the roof gave out." He turns and heads back inside, gesturing with one hand in a clear 'you can come too' sort of way. The inside of the cabin itself is small, mainly bare on account of he's cleared out a good bit of stuff already, but there's a lit lantern on top of a barrel near the door providing some light and what looks like a cow skull on the wall. That was there when he got here. He thinks it's pretty neat.

A

[darkxwolf17]

Uzi can't begin to imagine what she's going to do with herself now. So, she's taken to wandering the town for stuff. As it would happen, that's about when a busted utensil comes sailing out of a nearby house. It doesn't spook her, no, not at all.

She picks up the dented pan, turning it over curiously when she notices the human - god, she's never going to be used to this - pop his head out.

"...Hey. Uh... You sure you're not going to need this? For something?"

[terribibble]

Oh, huh. She's still here. That is, he can't imagine why she wouldn't be, except it's still hard to wrap his brain around the existence of a robot so advanced so it would be easier if she wasn't. Is that mean? He thinks maybe that's mean. Listen, he's just had a very tiring several weeks.

He figures the best way to deal with it is to simply pretend he does not see it and treat her like a perfectly normal human girl. This won't backfire on him, probably.

"Nah. It's no good for cooking with." It wouldn't make a bad bludgeoning tool, maybe, but he's got better options for that. It'd just be redundant.

[darkxwolf17]

Yup, still here! Unfortunately. This is her life, it seems. But she's also had a very tiring few weeks dealing with her own series of disasters, so. They're all in this boat together.

Gods, there's so many humans, and she can't decide whether or not to hate them. She thought they hated her kind for just existing. But if she ignores that part, maybe she can get through enough conversations that they won't have to talk anymore.

"Oh." Tosses it behind her. "I guess I thought Humans just collected all this junk. Like... for human-y things."

[terribibble]

Ah. Alright. It's going to be a little harder to pretend she's a totally normal girl when she keeps bringing attention to the fact that she's not. He thinks, again, of Ford Pines and his breathing exercises. He takes in a very measured breath and then lets it out again. It does not help.

"Some, sure. It, ah... depends on the person, what sort of junk they figure's useful. That's no good for what it's for and I can't make something else out of it, so it's no good for me. Someone else might like it, I wouldn't know."

A.

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe’s been sneaking around some of the shabbier-looking cabins too, scavenging for supplies. After what had happened at that one guy’s cabin last week, she's not looking to get embroiled in other people's stuff again for a bit.

Unfortunately, other people's stuff is getting embroiled in her instead now, it seems.

“Hey! Watch it! I thought thieves were supposed to be subtle.”

[terribibble]

"Well first of all I'm not a thief. And second of all this is all the stuff I don't plan on keeping. If I was stealing it I'd be a little more careful with it, there's no point in swiping something just to break it."

Very technically he is stealing the whole house, which is kind of worse, but he was also told that is a normal and acceptable thing to do here so he figures nobody can arrest him about it.

[desperate_times_right]

“Well, good, ʼcause that wood you threw at me looks like shit.” A thief should be taking better stuff.

“Why not just leave the stuff you don't want inside?” Then he won't have to deal with it and can go back to his own house with functional doors or whatever.

[terribibble]

Haha. About that.

"I want the house, and I'd like it not full of junk."

Unless it's junk he thinks might be useful, which is a totally different kind of junk.

A

[notarat]

Hold on, Fiddleford. Billy needs a moment to just blink at the other's appearance. Despite the fact that he's had to adopt to the more modern fashion of this place - not much of a choice when the only shirt you got to have from home is all bloodied and your coat not as warm as the ones here - Billy still hasn't quite adjusted to the way people just.. look around here.. Which means he needs a moment to take in Fiddleford's look before the words even properly register with him.

But when they do, he shakes his head.

"I wasn't assuming it," he replies, though he sounds more polite than deadpan. The other guy was nice enough to say sorry, after all, even though that piece of wood just now thankfully managed to land in front of Billy's feet, rather than actually hitting him. ".. What were you doing?"

[terribibble]

That's fair, honestly. Even in his native time and place Fiddleford is a lot to take in when you aren't expecting to have to see him. A lot of it's the face, and some of it's the height, and the choice of olive green tweed and dark brown tie would have been a bold choice no matter when he made it.

"Ripping out the old boards. There's a fair few that are rotting. I figure making a hole in my floor on purpose is better than falling through one by surprise when they give out."

This is normal, sound logic.

[notarat]

...

He may slowly be realising that apparently this place is just.. full of people who have the strangest sense of logic in the world.. First Hickey, now this man. It almost makes Billy start to question his own judgement, also being stuck in this place with these people..

Billy pauses, like he's trying to figure out whether to point the obvious out here or not. He's more used to keeping these things to himself, not wanting to start trouble on a literal ship he couldn't leave, but at least this village has a little more room. Maybe he can be a touch bolder.

At least enough so to point out: "But would you not still have a hole?"

Would this not be dangerous, Fiddleford. Aren't you just inconveniencing yourself!!

[terribibble]

To his credit, he doesn't seem one bit upset by having it (rightly) pointed out that he will in fact just be making a hole happen faster. It's not like that's incorrect. That's the point.

"Well, sure, but only for as long as it takes me to patch it up again. I wouldn't just leave it, I'm not looking to add a basement."

Which is actually kind of a thought for later, but the amount of time and effort that would take with ground this hard is kinda prohibitive. Probably better to expand outwards or upwards if he expands at all.

"And there's enough abandoned houses I figure it won't be all that hard to source new boards."